


New Year's Eve

by purkledragon



Category: Weiss Kreuz
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purkledragon/pseuds/purkledragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What better way to ring in the New Year than with the destruction of an old tradition?</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Eve

The year was going to end not with a whimper, but with one hell of a bang with screams ringing in a new year of violence and confusion that very few would ever fully understand. He did not have to see the future to know how it was going to work out and that was the key; Crawford would never appreciate the gesture, if there was no profit, there was no point as far as he was concerned. Which was why this was a personal two-man play date and not a standard Schwarz mission.

An estimated million people would stand out in the latest round of blizzard temperatures, waiting and watching for the final countdown of the year. It would be the last for many of them, as long as the blast went off without issue. For so many others it would be a reminder of past terror, a warning that safety was fleeting, and a horrific welcome into the glorious New Year.

New York’s Finest have never been a match for true unleashed insanity; this was not the work of religious fanatics looking for a way to launch a holy war. The intended outcome was nearly similar, at least for one of them—the joy of watching so-called beloved children crying out in frustration as the benevolent father ignores their tears. While Farfarello wanted nothing more than to disprove that lifelong lesson of love and care, the screams that would come from the explosion would accommodate both his and Schuldig’s primary itineraries.

The telepath had explained it before, how the thoughts pouring out unfiltered from others could be both sweet and addicting; however, an issue comes up when so many thoughts and minds are concentrated into a single buzz, like a beehive with all the worker bees running around excited over a new flower patch. The same message, repeated a million times over until everyone who hears it is trapped in the same never-ending loop. In the end, there is only one way to rattle the message; destroy it, shattering it until it is beyond recognition and there is nothing left to do but enjoy the psychic chaos that results. This was Schuldig’s plan.

Even the most secure area can be breached if the right, or in most cases wrong, person chooses to do so. A little manipulation of the unprotected, the appropriate suggestions placed into the most accepting, and occasionally the early shattering of the uncooperative minds all went into the careful work for the end result. Nothing went awry in the set up, from the careful management of necessary personnel, to the acquiring and application of the explosives. The result was going to be a fruition of a careful show of finesse, a subtle hand instead of all out flash and violence, that very few, barring the most knowledgeable, would be able to appreciate.

It was not a surprise when his phone rang; Schuldig had tossed it at the couch that figured primarily in the room’s décor when they had walked in the door. Neither one doubted who the caller was; it was just why he would choose to call at this time. Crawford had either just been tuned in on what they were up to and was calling to stop them, or was calling to complain, not that it mattered. This had nothing to do with what Crawford wanted, or approved. Before Farfarello had even thought the question, Schuldig just smiled. “I am not answering it.”

10…9...8…7…

Schuldig slid down next to the window facing Times Square, eyes turned to the wall on the other side of the room; he did not have to watch to see how it was going, did not have to know anything other than the fact it would all be over soon. The ringing was just background noise, easy enough to ignore as it blended in under the rising tide as the masses started their countdown, except for the fact it was louder than it had been as Farfarello had picked the phone up and dropped next to him. “You will. Eventually.”

6...5...4…

He could feel Farfarello watching him, another in the list of knowing without having to see. It did not matter. As the countdown went lower, the closer the moment of impact became, and the buildup continued burning bright in his gut and head. One way or another, something was going to explode and it was going to be fantastic.

3...2...1…

The phone finally silenced as he answered it while the countdown died, the stillness on the other end just as loud as the explosion behind them. “Happy New Year.” Schuldig dropped the phone back on the floor ignoring it once again, along with the tirade coming from Crawford’s end.

The room picked specifically for the effect the blast would have, proved the perfect location. The lights and shadows that covered the walls were just as brilliant as the muffled screams outside. Nothing however could compare to the up close and personal images flooding though the terrified minds of those offering a firsthand account. In afterthought, or rather pre-thought to keep Farfarello from sharing his displeasure at being left out of the loop of useless cries raised to Heaven, Schuldig opened up and let him hear the culmination of their work.

Even with the noise of sirens outside, somehow Crawford’s voice still filled the room from the cell phone. Schuldig stretched out upon the floor to stare at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge it. With nothing else to do Farfarello, who now had confirmation that God was still ignoring his blind flock, picked up the phone and listened for a few minutes before disconnecting the call. “He said not to go anywhere; they’ll be here on the next available flight.”

“Where he does he expect us to go? It’s New Year’s Eve, everyone knows the place to be is New York.” There was an almost hysterical tone to Schuldig’s laugh, but they could worry about that later. It was a New Year after all.


End file.
